Truly Happy
by Cloudsinmycoffee9
Summary: I've been rewatching Season 1 of "Downton Abbey" and was already feeling all the feelings during episode 1. Here is a not truly "drabble" inspired by 'that scene,' and shamelessly a little bit inspired by another otp…can you guess who? ;)


She sighed happily as he rolled off of her, as he had a thousand times before, and she instinctively reached her arm over and around his middle as he settled back into their bed. She curled her body to his, opened her eyes when she could and noticed the way her breath, slowing now, gently lifted the curls of hair upon his chest, damp with sweat from their efforts, drying now under her watch. She noted the changing color in the hair upon his chest – greyer now than she remembered it being.

Oh, she wondered. Are we getting older now?

All this talk and speculation and scheming to have their daughters married in the next few years . . . she could barely stand the idea. But the conversations were necessary, and her own parents and his parents must have had them as well, as nearly all parents around the world had. How very little love seemed to do with the business of marriage, and yet, she had it with Robert. They had love in each other.

She could barely remember a time before she did love him. What of her had been before him? Before the children? The household? The family and legacy that they had built together?

They had once been separate people – names and families and friends and stories. And there still remained some parts of her that he might not know so well, and perhaps he still had secrets. It delighted her to think that they could still learn from each other.

A marriage so long as theirs, built upon convenience, necessity, urgency, by chance turning into something more . . .

There was so much between them now. The years, the wars, the trials and tribulations, the children, the ups and downs. The uncertainty. The heartbreaks. But oh, how they could always find each other here, how they always managed to shut the world out, to be in the moment with only each other, with only the rise and fall of her chest and his lips and the completeness of their joining. The muffled moans and whispers and encouragements against collarbone and thighs and the push of her hips against his arms as he held or supported her against him.

They could find each other in the movement of being against being to a synchronic rhythm beyond their comprehension, older than their beginnings, and yet more fulfilling than either could have ever imagined before finding it with each other.

She smiled and turned to his heartbeat, sealing a kiss over his ribs, absorbing his grumble of half pleasure, half annoyance – she knew he would be hot from their, well, mostly his efforts. It was always so cold here, but he had always been so thoughtful, even in the beginning – making sure she had a fire lit in their bedroom, offering her blankets, always asking if she were warm enough.

As she moved, the sweat still trickling down her back and between her breasts and the slickness against her thighs reminded her of the delicious heat they had just created. He shifted a little underneath her, and might have reached to blow out the candle he had insisted upon relighting for their terrific fun, but she held steady her grasp on his ribcage, for she had something to say.

"Well, I think you just proved my point, my love," she began, softly, drawing a hand over the covers, lifting them to spread over her back and then reaching again to hold onto his waist.

"Oh?"

She tried to keep a straight face, but couldn't help the grin that broke away from her – "You have indeed made me very, very happy." She held his gaze for a second before collapsing against him in a giggle.

"My naughty American," he laughed into the top of her head, his breath warm in her hair as he pulled her closer. "Well, if the sounds you were making and the volume at which you were making them were any indication – "

"Stop! Robert!" she looked up. "Surely I wasn't too – "

"- then I guess I can easily believe that I made you happy just then," he cut her off with a kiss and leaned back with a smug smile.

"Then and always, darling. Although . . . I don't really remember what I might have said," she bit her lip, thoughtful, suddenly a little embarrassed.

"Don't worry, dearest, it was all _very_ encouraging."

She rolled her eyes but smiled back at him, too pleased and still too boneless to be truly concerned.

His fingers threaded lightly through her hair, undoing the remnants of the simple style her maid had designed – nearly wrecked in the last hour. She leaned into his touch and felt her features soften as she looked at him.

"And what about you, mm?" she asked softly. "Have I made you happy, Robert? In all these years we've spent together – have you been truly happy?"

Her question had been half playful, half serious, but his expression became somber as he drew his palm down to cup her cheek. "Cora – I don't even deserve to be asked that question."

"Why not?"

"Cora, please, don't – "

"Don't be silly - we both know why you pursued me and how Downton needed my father's money – "

"No, please, Cora – " he tried again.

"But that doesn't mean you are less entitled than I am to happiness in life. In marriage." She paused, but he still did not speak, simply brushed his thumb over her cheekbone until she felt his finger trace the shell of her ear, tucking hair behind it as he continued to look over her face.

"Well, now you're making me anxious for the answer," she teased him gently, drawing the backs of her knuckles against his jawline, trying to soothe away his anguish. She knew they could talk about the beginning of their relationship a thousand times, and he would never stop feeling guilty for it. But that wasn't what she wanted to discuss at all. No – his question earlier had pricked open a soft spot in her heart about their past – had she truly been happy, and had he? Had they been as suited for each other as he had once promised her? Were they suited still?

He guided her gently to her side until they faced each other, easing his leg over hers and settling them closely, knitting their bare arms and legs together so that their noses nearly touched. His hand reached to tuck the blanket in securely around her once more before he traced her ear and cheek again, so softly it nearly tickled, before he spoke to her quietly.

"Cora – you have given me happiness I have not deserved. Happiness I never even knew of before you."

"Truly?" she whispered.

He nodded and leaned up to kiss her forehead, tucking her under his chin as she nestled just a bit closer into his embrace.

"I know I don't say it enough, Cora, forgive me. But thank God for you. In every way, in every season of our lives that I get to share with you, dearest, my darling Cora. Thank God for you."

"Oh, Robert," she whispered into the space above his heart. "Thank God for you."

Sleep came quickly and easily, and the dawn found Lord and Lady Grantham showing love again, truly happy, together.


End file.
